The Sarevok Story
by OmniTron
Summary: Trying to make a story of Sarevok's adventures before Baldurs Gate 1, by my own imagination. Formatting fixed now. My first fanfic too. Woo. Only first 3 Chapters.
1. Prologue

Before you start reading, I'd like to point out I have no real knowledge of any written material on Sarevok's real past. One person who whinged on about this made me add this small section. I have a mere idea of Sarevok's past through the Baldur's Gate game series. I do not read Forgotten Realms. This is my world. Don't complain, please. It's demoralising. Except if it's a major error. Thanks for your time, now, please enjoy.

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Prologue

A whisper of wind blew through the forest Words carried by it met the ears of a man in the forest. He looked up. His eyes twitched for a few seconds and then struck his staff forward, a blast of lightning shot through the dense foliage, screaming through ripping open a path. Then, screaming in battlecry many other men erupted from the bushes and trees and charged forth on horses, their feet rumbling through the forest they met their target, a cave. Blood streamed out of the cave, most of the entrance was covered in thick, dripping, fresh blood.. They charged towards their target, desiccated vegetation crunched under their horses. Getting nearer a massive group of kobold raiders jumped from the trees into their path and raised their crude swords in battle cry. The kobold was a small creature. It looked rather like a dog with no hair that stood on its hind legs. It was usually green or brown. It usually lead a useless life of feed, sleep, feed, sleep. Such a creature would never stand a chance against a human alone. The leader of the men yet again shot his staff forward, another bolt of lightning smashing into the leader of the Kobolds, sending them into disarray, the men quickly jumped off their and raised their long swords and shields and charged forward.

"Master!" screamed the scout down the tunnel. He was short and plump, rather like a gnome. "What is it now!? The ritual has started!" Stavel asked impatiently

"Gorion and his men are coming! The Kobolds are being slaughtered as we speak!" The small man panted. Stavel looked around at all the children wailing in the cave and then said "Death priests, speed up the ritual! Gorion's Men *cannot* stop us now!" The other men and women in the cave nodded in union, and each picked up a child. They approached a blood-entrenched altar and placed their child/rock on top. The wriggling children were desperately trying to escape, but stood no chance as they were held down firmly to the altar. The men and women, one by one, threw a knife around that they quickly touched into the child's chest, merciless as it would scream in desperate pain, but then nothing. The sacrificing continued until a slight rumble was heard.

Each of the Death Knights started looking at the entrance. A swift blow of wind brushed out the candles lighting the cave. "What in the hells…?" Stavel tried to say before being smashed against the wall by a massive blast from a fireball. Being smashed against the wall, he tried to pick himself up. "Death... DEATHKNIGHTS! ARM YOURSELVES!" he screamed. All the women and men obeyed, unsheathing and arming their great swords, broadswords, maces and staves, and waited. Stavel picked himself up just in time to see Gorion and his small army charge into their cave, screaming out battle cries and magic's. Arrows slung across the cave as rangers from Gorion's group constantly fired with the ability of a elf. Some bouncing off the metal armour of the better Death Knights, whilst some penetrating deep into Studded Leather armour causing them to fall in anguish. The battle of the melee clashed in the middle, and the Archers stopped with their bows and drew swords to engage in attack, spinning them in their hands with the masterwork of Elves. Gorion stood on a highest rock and casted magicks where he could. summoning a massive jolt of electricity down into one of the death knights, he was quickly incinerated. What was left of his armour collapsed in a heap along with him. The clash of metal against metal could be heard from all points in the room, and then the occasional metal against flesh and bone and another person collapsing on the floor as a new corpse.

Stavel stood behind his knights and prepared his own spells against Gorion. Without mercy, he casted a massive fireball from the heavens, smashing down through the roof of the cave directly into the middle of the crowd of war. The explosion was truly mighty as warrior enemy and friend were tossed around the room like dolls. A few survivors stood from the explosion and continued to fight. One attempted to attack Stavel directly but failed as he conjured a Explosive arrow right into his heart. Now, Gorion and Stavel stared at each other across the battle in the middle, waiting for the first move. Gorion acted first, sending a fiery orb shoot toward him like a arrow, giving Stavel barely enough time to cast his won protective spell, bouncing off him is flew into the wall and collapsed it. Stavel quickly moved his hands into motion as he began casting yet another spell, another meteor from the heavens. But he had too underestimated the power of his enemy, as Gorion's vast power, he used telekinesis to stop the meteor and send it towards its creator. Screaming, Stavel just managed to jump out of the way, but the explosion threw him down unto the ground with tremendous force. A horrific snap came from Stavel's body as he smashed against the floor, and could no longer stand. He attempted to use his clerical abilities to heal his incredible wound, but Gorion's power was a lot stronger than anyone could have imagined. Throwing his hand to this side Stavel's magic was whisked away. Gorion approached him in his incredibly weakened state.

The battle with the fighters still waged in the cave, bodies were scattered everywhere, clashes of metal and wood filled the room with incredible noise. The children, however, started to use this chance to flee. Some of them ran straight for the entrance, whilst other stood there in fear of the battle. One child epically, but not in fear. "Sarevok!" whispered one of the children to him, "Sarevok we gotta go!!! C'mon!"

"No." Said Sarevok, he was intrigued by this battle and wished to stay, "Fine then!" whispered the other child and he rushed to the exit. "Yo... you can... cant be.. beat m... m... me... Gorion" Stavel barely managed to say. "It... its no... no... not over!" He exclaimed as he used a Magic spell he had prepared earlier. A massive earthquake erupted from him, and he lay there, seemingly dead. The cave started to collapse. "NO!" screamed Gorion, looking at all the children. He rushed over at the scattering children and picked up the first he found and ran for the exit, his warriors soon following him, only one escaped the chaotic magic however. A few more children had also escaped, but Gorion had no time to stop them. The chaos-earthquake stopped, and the spell ended with a massive explosion that collapsed the entire cave. Gorion looked at the child he had saved. "We'll take you somewhere safe, child..." He said to her, and then looked up at his warrior. "Come on... we cant spend anymore time here..."

The children, on the other hand were running through the forest madly. They all soon scattered. Sarevok ran through the forest, glad he had escaped safely. Sarevok was but 6 years old but was highly intelligent and strong. Not strong enough to face a enemy, but he knew he could easily some day. He kept running with the endurance of a bear. Soon, however, he muscles began to strain. His veins began to pump acid. Then he ran some more.


	2. Chapter 1: Beginnings

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The Sarevok Story

Chapter One: Beginnings

Sarevok had collapsed on the Lion's Way road. He had been lying there for a while now, but was happy he was resting somewhere safe at last. Seconds past, followed by minutes and followed by hours. After about 3 hours he heard a trundle of a cart getting closer. He looked up at the large stone block he was lying next to. He couldn't read yet but it had 3 arrows pointing in 3 directions. The cart got closer and closer until it stopped. It stopped next to him. There were two people there, they talked in some other language he didn't understand. They lifted him up from the ground and he twitched. Totally unaware to Sarevok, they were slavers from Amn. "What do you think he's worth?" Said one, "He looks kinda strong..."

"I reckon we could sell him in Baldur's Gate, plenty of willing people there"

"Why don't we just take him down south to the Umar Hills villages? They buy every slave there"

"No, this ones strong, they pay a lot in Baldur's Gate. Perhaps someone can use him as a crate carrier or something..."

"Maybe..."

"C'mon, lets go. We can stop at the Friendly Arm."

Sarevok was completely unaware of what they were saying. He did recognise the word 'Amn' though. It thought it was a city or something.

They travelled for about 6 hours with Sarevok in the cart, his muscles still hurt with great pain. He saw the massive fort of the Friendly Arm and was severely impressed, for he had never seen a castle of any type before. They went inside the Inn, and finally Sarevok sat up. The two men pointed at a chair, and he obediently sat. For now, he felt he should pay them back for carrying him here. He was surrounded by men and women, humans, dwarves gnomes and elves. He felt alone. Very alone. A few hours past before someone he recognised walked in. It was Io. He was walking around a bit. Io had always wanted to be a Death Stalker like most of the people he had been living with. Sarevok stood up from his chair and walked over to him. "Io!" he said, "Io, over here!" Io was a half-ling so he was pretty small and Sarevok could easily lift him up. "Sarevok! Is it you?" He asked

"It's me. How did you get here?"

"I was walking around for ages, and I found this place. Its big!"

"Yeah, two people found me and brought me here. They speak a different talk to us"

"They speak different? That's no good!"

"Maybe you should come with me! They are taking me somewhere I thinks."

Sarevok lead Io over to his companions. Before long, they had noticed him and they were both in the cart going to Baldur's Gate...

Within the period of 2 days, they reached the mighty city of Baldur's Gate. Io and Sarevok were amazed by the building they saw. The traversed the bridge, and led through the crowds of the city. They passed massive buildings of all shapes and sizes and each one amazed them. Soon they reached a massively crowded area, full of markets and small houses. They were brought the man behind a large counter, and the two men started talking. "What do you thinks gonna happen, Sarevok?" Asked Io, Sarevok shrugged and looked up. He was lifted and handed across the counter, he still couldn't work out what was happening. Io was soon passed over and the man behind the counter lifted a pile of shiny circles and gave them to the two men. Then, they were gone. Sarevok looked up, then at Io and said "We've been sold..." Io looked at Sarevok scared, and then at the man that was looking at them. He lifted them both and literally threw them into a door. The door slammed shut and all was silent.

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A few days had passed since they were threw into the dark room. The door only open to feed them scraps of food. But this day it would be different. Talking was heard from the other side of the door constantly. "Think we will be sold again?" asked Io again. "You've asked that fifty million times now!" Exclaimed Sarevok to Io, and Io fell silent and looked at what he hoped was a wall. There was no light in the room. It was a very small from what they could feel, the only tiny bit of light came through the crack beneath the door that only showed what was on the floor. The floor was tiled, but very dirty. It was also extremely uncomfortable and annoying to sleep on. The talking outside suddenly ceased outside and footsteps could be heard approaching the door. Io backed up against the wall, Sarevok could hear his ragged clothes rubbing against the wood. He wasn't all that bothered until the door was slammed open.  
The light engulfed the small room immediately and blazed at the two boys' eyes. Their eyes quickly hurt as they hurled their arms up against the light. The men started talking in another language again. "How much for him?" asked the new man, pointing at Sarevok. "Him? the strong one, aye, he will cost you plenty." Said the shop-owner

"How much, I asked?"

"1000"

"Fair enough. How strong you say?"

"He can lift smallish crates pretty well"

"Very well."

He handed him a pouch, totally oblivious to its contents, Sarevok and Io looked in confusions. Their own towns never traded with money, rather goods for goods. A sheep for 4 chickens, a load of eggs for a few pints of milk. Everything was simple. Baldur's Gate was evidently different. Suddenly, Sarevok was grabbed by the arm and dragged out of the room. Io attempted to follow but was pushed back and the door was slammed shut. Darkness. 

Sarevok, whilst being quite strong, could not pull out of the mans grip. The two men shook hands and the man pulling Sarevok departed. Sarevok was being dragged like a doll through the crowds in the market, he watched as the crowds often looked at him, and pointed. Their strange language was everywhere and once again he was alone. Alone, to learn alone and to probably live alone... Eventually the crowds came to an end and the sea could be seen. A massive port with dozens of docked ships floated everywhere. Sarevok was given little time to look at his surroundings before being dragged into a boathouse, to him it was just another towering structure. Sarevok was placed in a room, a few models of ships were around the wooden room, there were a few holes in the floor. Below them was total black. A single window lit up the room dimly, no glass on the window let a cool sea air breeze blow around the room. Sarevok, however, was much more intrigued by the model of a ship. He had never seen a ship before, not even the smallest kind. He had seen the water, but had been told it was a dangerous place where Monstrous sea creatures lay in wait and if they don't get you, the sea will eventually swallow you up and kill you. He was told about swimming, but he was also told it was highly dangerous and massively infested with all sorts of strange beasts.

With his knowledge, the model of the ship floating in real water surprised him greatly, and watched it, trying to see if the water would open up and swallow it, or a massive disguised monster would tear it apart. He watched in vain. Eventually, he tired of watching the little ship float around and looked out the window. He saw the bigger ships more clearly now. It was too floating. He didn't understand at all. Before he could start doing anything else, the door flung open again and a man walked in with a very large stick. The man lifted his stick and prodded Sarevok with it. This did not please him much. "He is very skinny" He said, poking the boy with his cane, "I wanted a larger boy"

"I am told he is very strong" Said another man was he walked into the room.

"He had better be," the man with the cane said. He picked him up and asked Sarevok his name. Sarevok had no idea what they were saying to him, and stared blankly at them. The men began talking again. "He isn't from this part of Faerun is he?" asked the man with the cane, 

"I wasn't told" Said the other. He prodded the boy with the cane again, this time angering Sarevok. "I want him taught." The man with the cane said. The other man bowed and walked out the room. The man with the cane looked at Sarevok for a while, then pointed at a smallish crate. Sarevok looked, but didn't do anything. The man walked up to the crate and lifted it with ease. It was a bit heavy, but easily lifted by a grown man. He put it down, pointed at the crate again, then at Sarevok. He lifted it again and pointed. Sarevok walked up to the crate and lifted it quite slowly, which was understandable for a 6 year old. The man with the cane smirked happily, pointed at the ground and left the room. Sarevok put the crate down and watched him leave. He was confused. Why had the man wanted him to lift a crate? He had no idea, but he was then amazed by the ships again, and walked to the window with a crate. He stood on the crate, and gave a much better view of the ships. He watched.


	3. Chapter 2: Ruining of Peace

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The Sarevok Story

Chapter 2: Ruining of Peace

"No no no!" said the man with the long cape, slamming his fist on the table. Sarevok was startled. "It's 'my name is' how many times have I told you this?" the caped man said. "Sorry Ligk..." Sarevok mournfully said. He was learning the strange language slowly, he was 8 now, and much larger than before. He had proven his strength many times, as he would work in the mornings and learn in the afternoons. The evenings he was allowed to roam the streets of the Docks. Ligk started teaching him again... "now, lets get this right. Repeat: My name is Sarevok, I am eight years old and I am a slave" he said to Sarevok. Sarevok looked at him and twitched. Everyone said his was strong and greatly minded, but nobody ever accused him of being a Good person. "Sarevok! SAY IT!" Ligk said. Sarevok, startled again, moved his lips and said "Me name es Sarevok, Ey ame eight yeares ald..." Ligk sighed and bent his head over. He knew Sarevok could say it, but he was being stubborn. Again. "Right, that's enough today, I can't be bothered with you." He said, looking up. Sarevok knew most of the language already, and understood him perfectly, he just refused to show it in front of his teacher. Sarevok remained seated and waited... Ligk looked up at him, "You're free! Go on out!" he said, and pointed to the door. Sarevok ran for the door and outside, smelling the fresh sea air gave a change from the dank smell he could never get used to inside the boathouse.

He ran off to the houses and sat. This was his usual waiting place for his friends. He had many other slave friends around the docks, all of them were from Baldur's Gate, but they all liked Sarevok because of his massive strength. He could lift all sorts of things up for them to get under. Today was going to be special. Tom was the first to come up to Sarevok, he ran up and looked around. He was the shyest of all the slaves. He didn't say much but was incredibly brave. Sarevok knew it was pointless to say anything to him, as another boy ran up. This boy was Erthes, he was a strange elf-child who, surprisingly, had harnessed power of a mage at a early age. Whilst the power was incredibly insignificant, it was great for chasing off other non-slaves and lighting up dark tunnels they may explore. He was a extremely gifted child. "Hi Sarevok, Tom.." he greeted, Tom looked up and nodded, but didn't say anything. Sarevok barely said "Hi" and looked down at his feet. The last to come was Doomhammer. He never said his real name, but everyone thought it was a great name to say. It suited him really because he always carried around a rusty old runehammer he found years ago. Its old imbued powers had worn off years ago, but it still bared its runes that glowed in darkness. He nodded at everyone, Erthes said "hi!" but nothing special. Conversations rarely started when they were with but 1 or 2 others. Now there was 4 of them, they felt much more safer from non-slaves and conversations started to spark. "Where is this exciting place we are going to today anyway?" Asked Erthes, curious about everything as usual, "we're going to the Tomb of Raka! I know a secret way in!" said Doomhammer, he was pretty excited by the idea, but Tom didn't look too impressed. He opened his mouth, for a change, and his unused voice came out rather croaky and sounded like he had been breathing dust. "We cant go that way." He said. "It's too dangerous!"

Doomhammer laughed as Tom said this, combined with Erthes' scared look, it was quite funny to him. Erthes decided to back up Tom, "He's right, we cant go that way," He said, "Really, its full of traps and all sorts!"

"It's ok!" Doomhammer replied "I heard they are doing a sermon in there tonight, so all the traps will be disabled."

Tom looked down again, and said nothing. Erthes didn't know what to say. So, Sarevok spoke up. Sarevok didn't talk much, but when he said something it usually made a lot of sense, "I say we go in." He said. Tom looked at him, he looked a bit angry with him, but Erthes had to agree. He always seemed to agree, "Sarevok's right, we can go in if I use a bit of magic light." He said, shrugging a little. Doomhammer nodded and jumped onto a smallish boulder. He always seemed to act like the leader, he was rather charismic in nature, so everyone accepted it, except Sarevok, who never really accepted anything. Doomhammer often liked to be higher than everyone else, realistically and socially. After standing, viewing them from above for a while, he said in a strong tone: "Lets go!!" and jumped off to run towards the Graveyard area. Everyone, but Sarevok, followed him quickly.

When they got to the Graveyard area, the night had already become apparent, a few wolves were already howling around the area. Doomhammer, as always, clutched his rune-hammer desperately. His hammer was the only weapon they had, and he could use it as a fearful weapon anytime. Tom, as usual, had become very quiet. He had a apt ability to easily disappear into the shadows. Sarevok boldly walked through the graves, whilst Erthes was attempting to conjure up some stronger light but it wasn't working well. Even though he could use magicks, at his age it would be very hard to do it properly. When they finally reached the tombs, they blew off all the dust on the inscriptions to find Raka's. It took some time, but at last the tomb was found, a larger tomb with some rusty old silver linings on the entrance. They all suddenly became reluctant as the dark tunnel ahead of them seemed to hum with something unidentifiable. Sarevok, as in his nature, was interested and walked straight in. "Sarevok!" Doomhammer whispered loudly into the entrance, as the darkness of the tunnel swallowed him up. Tom shook his head in doubt and backed off a little. Doomhammer looked at him and closed his eyes in thought. Erthes was also reluctant, and murmured a little as he followed him inside. "Right... are you coming Tom... Tom?" He asked as he looked around. Tom had already ran off into the night. Doomhammer looked solemnly into the dark tunnel and shakily stepped inside.

Erthes finally got some light to shine around him, his skin starting to glow a vibrant orange. The tunnel was lined with webs and holes where bricks had fallen out. "Why do they make these things so damned long?" whispered Doomhammer, trying to cover up his panic washing over him. Sarevok already knew he was scared, but didn't care as he walked further into the darkness. Erthes followed behind him. Doomhammer looked behind him, the tunnel was curving and this was his only chance to get out... He ran. "Doomhammer?" asked Erthes, turning around. He could be seen running out of the entrance. He turned around to look at Sarevok again and shrugged as he followed him. Sarevok sighed, he could tell that most of his friends had already left. He walked further into the tunnel and started to get a bit frightened as a chant could be heard deeper inside. Erthes' light started to struggle to stay alight. Sarevok looked at him hastily. "I can't!!" Erthes whispered, his light dying quickly. "There's some kind of magic wards here!" Sarevok shook off his fear, and Erthes saw him walk off into the darkness beyond his dying light. He backed up... He couldn't bring himself to follow him as he ran for the entrance.

Sarevok continued feeling his way through the passage. and finally saw some light ahead of him, he started to copy the way Tom would sneak his way around when he was afraid, and inched down the passage. The chants got louder. Strangely, he could recognise the language of the enchantments. It was his home-language, and so he got as close as he could and listened. "Or thou the maidens shall perish, and with them shall come the children. So shall it be... The..." The man chanting stopped. "I... no... the... the... I... I sense a bhaalspawn in this place!" He cried out. Sarevok had heard that word before. He was called one a long time ago when he was only four. He had thought that a since the people from this city were called the Baldurian's, he thought that he was a Bhaalspawn, like it was his city. It seemed he was right. "A bhaalspawn... here?" another person asked,

"I sense him."

"The bhaalspawn were meant to be killed! The entire reviving of our God Bhaal was in this!"

"If a Bhaalspawn is here, then something has gone wrong."

"If the sacrificed were interrupted, we must round up all the 'spawn we can find and kill them ourselves!"

"Ok... our ceremony here is pointless without the sacrifice... That Stavel always makes a mistake."

Stavel... Bhaal... Sacrifice. Sarevok was confused. He was a Bhaalspawn, he knew that, but it appeared it was not what he thought. Bhaal was a God, as he just found out, and a spawn was a baby, as he had always known... was he a child of a God? Sarevok pushed himself against the wall as he felt the rush of air as several men and women ran past him, their shoes rattling down the long corridor. Sarevok emerged from his hiding spot and walked into the chamber they were just in. "THERE!" a voice cried out, and he was jumped. Attempting to fight back, he tried to push against the man that just jumped on him and suddenly all the people that had left returned. "He's only eight. He cant fight yet. But we cant allow these children to get any older, they can develop unique and powerful Bhaal abilities. We must kill this one now."

They placed Sarevok unto a altar and a person unsheathed a knife, Sarevok yelled for help in vain. Then, just as all seemed hopeless, in his veins he suddenly felt a rush of pure evil, he was sure of it, evil rushed through his arms, legs and body and he suddenly felt stronger. His arm trusted onto the person in front of him, getting out of his grip and took the knife off him. His sudden rush of strength purely surprised him. He moved through the room with finesse with the knife, and felt prepared to kill. "Get him!" screamed one of the people and they ran for him. Sarevok plunged the knife into someone's neck and they rushed away from him in extreme pain. Bloody gushed from his throat like a waterfall, he tried to speak but only gargles were emitted from his blood-entrenched mouth, and soon collapsed on the floor in a lifeless heap. Sarevok, astonished by this had last the knife in the mans throat and had no way to protect himself from the others. He was being beaten up easily. He stood no real chance at all. 

Sarevok could no longer move. The men had savagely beaten him up and was sitting against the wall of the chamber, tears leaking from his eyes. The apparent leader of all the men walked towards him. He was wearing nothing but black, and most of his face was covered by black cloth. and only his eyes were totally visible. "Now, you will die bhaalspawn." Sarevok's mind filled with questions, as he lay there incapable, but then, as luck would have it, voices were heard nearing the chamber. All the men and women in black suddenly started talking fast. "We can't kill him now, these people down there will see us!"

"they wont see us! He must be killed!"

"We cant kill him!"

"Just give me the damn knife!"

"No! We can't..."

The voices down the tunnel got louder and they suddenly stopped as two people walked into the chamber. "Oh god..." whispered one of the men in black. The two new people walked right into the room and looked around. "What's all this...?" Questioned one of them,

"Err.. My lord... This child was found severely beaten up..." said one of the blackened men, the other man raised his eyebrow and looked at the child, and then at the blood on one of the men's feet. He laughed at little and said "I am no fool, Bhaal cleric. Begone with you, and hope the next person that meets you committing a crime is not so gracious."

The man in black sighed in relief, then looked sharply at the quivering child on the floor. His eye twitched and he started walking down the tunnel, the other black-dressed people soon following him. Grumbling and mumbling could be heard down the trouble as the two that stayed picked up Sarevok and took him down the tunnel again


	4. Chapter 3: Planting the Blade of Chaos

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The Sarevok Story

Chapter 3: Planting the Blade of Chaos

Sarevok was in a chair when he awoke. He could barely remember the day before, only that he was alone, and being beaten up by several men. He failed to remember what had happened properly, but he wasn't back in the dock house anymore. He looked around. He was in a much larger room than his own, and it was quite decorated with golden trinkets and candle pieces. He scrambled to his feet and felt scared. Alone again. He felt worried and concerned about his surroundings. Before he could identify the place further a man strode into the room. It was time for some explaining to be done.

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Sarevok sunk back into his chair. Dynlon had been talking for a while. "So... Sarevok..." he continued, "Because of your current state, we in the Iron Throne wish to adopt thee." Sarevok didn't really know what adopt meant, but he was pretty sure it was like slavery. "I'm already a slave..." He whispered, his throat still hurt a lot from his previous encounter. Dynlon laughed a little, "We are not making you a slave, boy. We wish you to... become part of our family." He said, Sarevok was a little confused by it. He had heard of the family of slaves, but any other 'families' confused him. Dynlon bent down and looked at Sarevok, his face quickly became disgruntled. "We want to raise you like you should be." Dynlon said, quietly. Sarevok was confused again, but didn't say anything. "You will be raised by the Iron Throne as a... half-Prince." He almost whispered. It felt like he was wary of someone listening to him. Sarevok blinked, quite inattentive, but nodded anyway. "But anyway, it is time we showed you your new room." Dynlon said, beckoning him to come along. Sarevok followed, and noticed Dynlon was acting strangely aware of everything. "Beware," Dynlon whispered to him, "This is the Day of Chaos, and anything could happen. Aluando has spoken, come." All Sarevok could think of then was about this Day of Chaos, and this Aluando person. It meant little to him, then, as he was brought through wooden corridors and strange shiny rooms.

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Years past as Sarevok grew under the Iron Throne. His slaved friends were forgotten as he grew into a much stronger person. He was a bit larger than the normal typical folk around the City, and often people cowered upon seeing him, usually beggars and the like. Over his years he slowly started to train with a sword, being quiet apt at handling the steel beasts, as he had discovered. He was 16 when his peace of his surroundings was once again broken. The Day of Chaos had broke again, its annual emptying of the streets didn't surprise Sarevok as he walked through the silence of the usually busy streets. His sword, that he was now allowed to carry, dangled from his belt heavily, while a normal 16 year old couldn't even carry a piece of weaponry as big as a 5 foot sword, Sarevok had no trouble with either carrying or fighting with it. Walking along the streets, his curiosity took him over as he saw a shadow of a man disappearing into a alleyway. His eyes twitched, as his left hand gripped his weapon and ran after him. He was always looking for a fight, now that he had begun to wield his sword.

Running down the alley, he saw his target. He looked quite big, in his twenties and carried a shield and Flail. The Flail looked more powerful than usual ones, as Sarevok could see a magical essence flow around it like water. The man looked at Sarevok briefly before running around a corner. Sarevok clenched his teeth unwillingly, he felt quite angry that the man had ran away and spasmodically unsheathed his two-handed sword, the five foot long sword glimmered in the light, freshly polished after a previous battle. Sarevok didn't know why he was determined to fight this person, but he felt a urge in his blood as he ran down the alley after him. He saw the man again as he turned around the corner, he looked at Sarevok again, and kept running. Sarevok felt he had no other choice but to follow. After a while the man stopped and turned to face Sarevok. Sarevok was tall, but the man was slightly taller. "Why are you following me?" He asked quickly. Sarevok had to think before he could say anything "I feel... I feel you must die!" The man laughed at Sarevok, his flail began to glow a faint red. "You, want to fight me... Why?" Questioned the man, again having to wait for Sarevok to think "This is the day of Chaos!" he exclaimed, "Anything can happen!" He said as both his hands gripped his sword tightly, his leather gloves making a creaking sound rubbing against the hilt. "Yes, anything can happen..." He said, a slight laugh under his breath, "But.. that... heh... 'weapon' is a pathetic piece of metal! You cant expect to beat me with such a thing, and epically with no armour."

"I need no armour!" Sarevok shouted at him. "Still, that sword cannot pierce mine." The man said, laughing. Sarevok, feeling horrible humiliated raised his sword above his head, "I'd like to test that" He said, anger sweeping through his body. The man was about to say something else but failed as Sarevok's sword trusted down upon his plated armour. The sound of clashing metal filled the street, however the sword failed to pierce his armour in any way. "A slight scratch" the man said, flipping his flail around in his hand in boredom. Sarevok glanced at his sword, and noticed it had been chipped. He nearly gasped at the power of the man's armour. "I like your attitude, child... Very... aggressive." He said, "Perhaps there is more to you than you may think... follow me, and we shall see.." Sarevok would've ran away but curiosity yet again beckoned him to follow him. It was his ir-refusable nature.

The man led Sarevok to a house. It was a plain house, 1 floor and looked like it could house but 2 people. Entering the house, the walls seemed to be lined with tonnes of weaponry, swords, maces, flails, War hammers, Bows. The man turned around to face Sarevok and said "You have a warrior spirit, but you need a warrior's tools before you can be one." He turned around and picked off a sword from the wall and tossed it to Sarevok. Sarevok caught it, finding it was lighter than he had expected. Still heavy, but lighter than usual. "This is a Blade imbued with magical properties." The man said, pointing at the sword. Sarevok looked at him quizzically. "It is imbued with the powers of a stronger being, like a bear, possibly. Using these properties the sword will have a much stronger attack than a usual sword. Try your own sword on that plank there, then try the other." The man said, pointing at a wooden plank. Sarevok threw his sword down upon the plank willingly, a large 'thunk' sound erupted from the clash of wood and metal, shedding parts of the plank over the place. "Now try the other" The man said. Sarevok sheathed his own sword, then picked up the new one. Thrusting this sword down upon the plank immediately sliced through it, cutting it straight into 2, a perfect cut. Sarevok could do nothing but stare in astonishment at his own work.

"Impressed?" The man questioned, resting in a chair. Sarevok didn't say anything, but just looked at the peculiar design of the two-handed blade. The man spoke again, "My name is Keins. I am a blacksmith of magical powers. I can make anything, within reason." Sarevok looked at Keins, and finally spoke again, "Could I... keep this sword..?" he asked, mesmerised by the power of the sword. "Keep it? Gods, no. I may be generous, but I'm not a good person. Not that good. I don't give things away, if you wish a sword of this power, I advise you earn it." Keins said, looking quite uncomfortable. "How do you expect me to earn... this?" Sarevok asked

"If you wish to earn that... I suppose I could give you a job worthwhile."

"Like what?" Sarevok asked swiftly, quickly grasping the idea of having such a great weapon. "Swords such as that are worth plenty of Gold in Faerun. However, there has been a thorn in my side for the past few days. A rival company that forges metal is beginning to take the market. This idea frightens me greatly. You may be quite young, but you seem very capable of finding a way to... disrupt their business..." Keins said, looking quite angry all of a sudden. Sarevok nodded anxiously. "In that case," Keins said, "you should probably be a lot more prepared than you are now. I will offer you this Plate-Mail, or Half-Plate. Whatever suits you better. It should be more than adequate to protect against whatever those... people might have against you."

"What is the name of this company?" Sarevok asked quickly, starting to become ever-more anxious to start his quest. "The name is Ullberg Metals, in the residential district." Keins murmured, seemingly becoming distracted "Then I shall go!" Sarevok cried, whilst fitting his feet inside metal-plated boots. Keins smirked, leaning back on his chair and taking a few breaths from a pipe.

Sarevok lifted the guard from his helmet, the armour was heavy, even for him. "A good fit!" said Keins, "You're quite big for your age. Luckily no-one will recognise you in thick armour, so I'm sure you can pass through the streets with ease... even though they are already empty..." Sarevok nodded at him, clashed down the guard on his helmet and walked for the door, "Beware!" Keins managed to cry out to Sarevok as he left through the door. Sarevok paid no heed.

However much the chest, thigh and shin plate weighed, Sarevok managed to continue through the streets with it. He started to see more carefully through the visor, noticing people staring at him through windows as his armour rattled through the residential areas of Baldur's Gate. After a while of walking through the streets, he finally got to a building, the only really large one in the residential district that had the words "Ullberg metals" Sprawled across a banner. Sarevok just unsheathed his sword, again, and bashed the door open. The door swung open, to reveal machinery and tools, each one manned by no more than a corpse and a pool of blood. Sarevok looked around, lowering his sword from his aggressive position. He lifted his visor again, and sniffed the air. The air had a definite smell of death, but something caught Sarevok's nose. He always had a apt ability to smell things beyond normal folk. He sniffed the air carefully, and recognised it almost immediately. "Magic..." Sarevok said solemnly. He crashed down the visor again and walked past the corpses, walking up some stairs, toward what seemed to be a foreman's office.

Sarevok placed his hand on the handle, then reluctantly backed off. He remembered once, a encounter with magic. He still bared the scars, and the wounds that refused to heal. Small wounds, but gave him deadly memories. This time he would be a bit more prepared. He rattled the door knob. It was locked. '_Typical'_ Sarevok thought, taking the sword by the blade and thrusting the heavy hilt down upon the handle, it broke off immediately and the door creaked open slightly. Sarevok took the sword by the hilt again and kicked in the door. In the door was someone Sarevok nearly immediately recognised... "Erthes!" Sarevok cried out. Erthes turned around swiftly. "Gah! Sarevok!?" He exclaimed in surprise, Sarevok nodded, quickly realising he was still in his armour. "How... how did you know it's me?"

"My magical powers are far beyond what they were. I wield power a elder mage would have." Sarevok was surprised. He knew that he wielded powerful magicks, but not as powerful as that. He looked around, and finally noticed a man being suspended in air by magic, he was struggling, as if he was being strangled. "What are you doing..?" Sarevok asked

"I am here to remove this man's annoying presence," Erthes replied, pointing at the floating man, "He is... disrupting my work here. This factory will be mine!"

"But you are a slave, Erthes"

"Slave!? Ha! I killed my owners with magic beyond your belief. They now lie rotting under thousands of metres of ground. They indeed begged for life... but I cared not, as I trusted their pathetic bodies into the ground. It was amusing."

"Amusing? That sounds... gruesome, even I would not take a man's life in such a way!"

"you don't know the power of the magic I wield"

"You have changed Erthes...'"

"I know. Would you like to test my new self?"

Sarevok gripped his hilt tightly "If that is your wish, be it a foolish one"

Erthes cast his hand to the side slightly, and the man in the air was thrown against the wall, smashing a hole in it and falling down unconscious. Immediately, Erthes placed his hands together, opening them to reveal a magic ball raging with heat. Sarevok clicked with visor into firm place. he swung his sword around in circles, and did a vain attempt to run toward Erthes, his magic ball erupting into a sphere of slowness. Sarevok was slowed immediately. "Ackkkkkkkkk" He screamed, in a slow tone, he stood no chance already. Erthes waved his hands in magical motion, Magic ran down his veins into his palms, another magic ball spun between them. Sarevok kept running toward him in the sphere, but it seemed while a arrow engulfed in flames flew from the magic ball, penetrating the slowness field with ease and shattering into Sarevok's armour. Blazing heat took Sarevok with surprise, and he staggered, although slowly. "Pathetic!" Erthes laughed, and smiled as he yet again ran his hands in magical form.

Sarevok felt it was over, no way out. No way… Then, a sudden rage filled himself. Something he had not experienced for 2 years, a heat of rage shot through his veins, a incredible evil that cleared his mind, and filled it with evil beyond his capability. A sense of magical distortion suddenly filled him, and cleared the sphere he was in. "Anti-magic!?" Erthes yelled in surprise, losing the spell he was conjuring. He quickly started a new spell to break Sarevok's newly acquired shield, but stood no chance. "My turn..." Sarevok murmured as he managed to muster enough strength to actually jump with his armour unto Erthes and scathe him with his sword. Sarevok's mind filled with a sudden craving of flesh, and he nearly started drooling at the thought of killing Erthes. He tried to shake it off. Erthes scrambled out from Sarevok's grip and casted a simple spell, 5 magical missiles jumped from his hand and flew in a circular path toward Sarevok. Amazingly, Sarevok lifted his sword and deflected the shots away from him, they crashed into the walls and ceiling, leaving scorch marks around their contact points. "Sarevok! No!!! Please!" Erthes managed to cry out before his intestines were spilled on the floor, along with the blood. "No... Not... Not possible!" Erthes barely managed to say before collapsing in a quivering heap.

"Would've thought you'd been a worthier foe, Erthes." Sarevok said laughing a little. Swinging his sword around, with the inhuman strength he gained. He twirled it around his head and plunged it into Erthes' chest, spraying blood all over. The rage started to calm then. He felt his control return to him. "Ugh…" He murmured, stumbling backwards a little clutching his head; dropping his sword. "Well," Sarevok said, laughing slightly, "At least I don't have to… end this business myself." He looked at the unconscious man on the floor. "Must be the Director…" Sarevok grabbed the man by the neck and brought him to his feet. He started to awake, "Wh… who are you?" He asked Sarevok. "My name is Sarevok, Mr. Keins sends his regards." He looked like he was about to ask another question, but didn't have the chance. Sarevok's blade pierced through his back, taking a mass amount of blood along with him. The Director scrambled in Sarevok's grip, but to no avail. Blood spraying all over Sarevok's armour, he slipped off the sword and collapsed on the floor. 

"End of…" Sarevok said, and left for the door. He looked around at all the bodies around the factory. It wasn't too nice. He could see the hole in the floor where Erthes had smashed bodies deep into the earth. "A horrible death… even for me…" He whispered to himself and left the building swiftly. The stench of magic and blood never really made a inviting smell. He stepped out of the door, only to be greeted by a man in black, "Who the hell are you!?" Sarevok shouted in surprise, "My name is Jeenes, My master has told me to kill you now." He said, quite casually

"Kill me… Why?"

"I do not ask questions to my master, he has told me to kill you, so I will."

"Let it be so, you look pathetic to me…"

"Never judge a book by its cover…" Jeenes said, and flipped backwards twice, at the same time drawing two katana's from his back and spun them both around in his hands, looking very impressive. "Nothing I can't handle!" Sarevok said, reaching for his sword. Then he remembered he dropped it in the office. "Oh…" He said shocked, then ducked as Jeenes jumped toward him. Jeenes charged at him without delay. Sarevok didn't have a chance; but he placed his hand forward and attempted to deflect the sword. The katana's smashed against his wrist guard, sending the weapon flying to the right. The other katana bounced a little, and was slightly scratched. "Impossible!" Jeenes said, staggering backwards a bit. Sarevok leaped at the chance to take the battle, literally. He jumped for the other katana, but his armour barely let him get far. He managed to get the weapon nonetheless and raised it. It was badly damaged, but useable. He twisted it in his hands and wielded it like his own two-handed. Jeenes leaped at him again, with agility of a blade master. Sarevok dodged him barely and swung the katana unto Jeenes, but missed badly. The Katana was much more lighter than he was used to, and it was hard to control.

Jeenes was much more of an expert with lighter weapons, and launched another attack on Sarevok. Sarevok deflected the attack with his Katana, and attacked. Jeenes barely managed to defend himself. "I see you're not too good in defensive!" Sarevok said, smiling and thrust his Katana again toward Jeenes, and this time hit him on his legs. Jeenes tumbled over in agony. "You wont get away with this, Sarevok!" he cried out. "I think you find that I will, Jeenes!" Sarevok replied, grabbing Jeenes' dropped sword. Jeenes sat up, and tried to stand to get away. It was too late, Sarevok spun the swords around, and in a scissor motion slashed off Jeenes' head. Blood spilling all over, Sarevok had caused far too much commotion. It was time to leave. He pulled off most of his armour, leaving just his shin pads and arm-guards and ran like a bat out of hell. He ran and ran until his sweat felt like acid and his blood felt like fire. Then he ran some more. He could almost feel the people looking at him and the blood that was splattered all over his armour that was left.

Sarevok smashed the door through and slammed it behind him. He was panicking a lot for some reason. Keins looked up from his desk as the door slammed, a few pieces of weaponry fell from the walls. "You're back I see…" Keins said, chuckling to himself,

"I am, and now I expect my reward!"

"Hmm. Perhaps so. But a few of my… contacts… have told me that you did just kill the manager of that factory."

"Huh?" Sarevok asked feeling confused

"You killed every single worker! And a thief of the Black Sun!"

"Is this good or bad?"

"You KILLED a Black Sun Thief! No-one I know can do that! You, my child, have abilities that some people would beg to have! You deserve a lot more than the pathetic swords I can offer you."

"So… what is there to offer me?" Sarevok asked, sitting down.

"There is a sword… that few know of. It is called the Blade of Chaos… it resides in the forests outside of the city."

"I like the sound of that…"

"It bears on the hilt, that the strongest of the young can wield the sword, any other… will die."

Sarevok looked up at the prospect. "You think I'm the strongest of the young?"

"Definitely… It is the best I can offer you."

Sarevok would've probably refused the offer if it wasn't for his inquisitive nature. "I'll do it! Take me to this blade!"

Keins smiled, he had often wondered who would dare take up the sword and live. "We shall leave tomorrow then, Sarevok. Meet me at the city gates tomorrow, and I shall show you the sword."

Sarevok nodded, then left for the Iron Throne palace, his home. He could barely wait for the day to follow. But he had no idea of the forces he was going to release.

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It was a sunny morning. The city streets were once again bustling with activity. The day of chaos had ended again. And as usual, nothing had happened. Sarevok was waiting at the gate like Keins had said. He had been waiting a while now, and was starting to get impatient. His desire to even see the sword kept him in place though, and was prepared to wait for a long time. He needn't wait much longer however. Keins strode through the crowds of the city like he was repelling them back. People cleared his path when he walked by. He did look quite frightening; his black cloak made him stand out from everyone else, and the way his face was hidden well in the shadows of his hood. His sword was an incredible beast as well, the blade often scratched on the cobbled surface of the floor.

Sarevok stood up firmly when he saw him. He was looking very official to him. Keins didn't seem to want to waste any time. "Come on, Sarevok… we cant waste much time." He said in a moving way. Sarevok didn't reply. He too was anxious to see the sword. "This way…" Keins said, heading towards the bridge. The bridge was a fantastic piece of architecture. On it's pillars were carved incredible statues of Balduran, founder of Baldur's Gate. In the middle of the bridge was the drawbridge, its chains coated in gold. The wood you walked on was of the purest wood, elven enchantments written all along it. Sarevok and Keins strode across the massive bridge, Sarevok hadn't seen the bridge in quite a while and was yet again mesmerised by the quality of the bridge. In his childhood, he indeed saw a few bridges, but they were merely pathetic compared to this.

Keins avoided the path when he walked off the bridge, into the forests. Sarevok, since he had been a slave, had never really seen trees. There were a few small trees in the city, but just for the decoration. These trees were incredible compared to them, and in vast numbers. Keins walked through a smallish passageway between them. Roots appeared to pave the way. Sarevok reluctantly followed. The 'passage' was dark. Sarevok felt like someone, or something, was watching him. The floor was continually getting more dense with roots. Keins walked smoothly through them, leaving Sarevok to trip up every now and again. After a while, Keins stopped. Sarevok nearly bumped into him.

"This is the wall of roots… Nature does not like the sword, and attempts to hide it" Keins said, laughing a little. Sarevok looked around Keins; he saw a wall completely made of branches and roots. They entwined and entangled each other to make what appeared to be a huge knot in the wood. Keins started to draw his sword. It was probably his best, it gleamed gold, but itself was silver. It even seemed to fizz and crackle with some kind of energy. Keins spun it around in his hands and plunged it into the wall. Almost immediately, the roots were engulfed in fire and quickly reduced to nothing. Keins smiled; he had forged that sword himself, along with a fire elemental, a beast born of nothing but flame.

Sarevok was amazed by the power of the sword, and stood there stunned for a second, before shaking it off and entering a clearing ahead. The clearing was filled with sunlight, broken a little by leaves high above. In the middle was something gleaming in the light. Sarevok approached it quickly, while Keins stood at the side. It stood on naturally-formed steps, stone hard as granite. Upon it was a larger block of stone, shaped rather like an anvil. And on that was a sword, deeply thrust inside. Its handle was curved perfectly, designed for both hands. Its hilt was coiled at the edges, like a snail. Its blade was massive from the hilt, it's markings that showed signs of ancient evils. The sides of the blade were sharpened like fins of a shark. The rest of the blade was inside the stone.

Sarevok read the hilt carefully "Only thou who strong and vigilance, young and true may take the wield this sword like other. Strong who thou are not shall live no longer in realm mortal." Sarevok thought about it for a second… "Bad grammar…" He said jokingly. Then he looked at Keins, "Well, take it!" Keins cried out to him. Sarevok looked at it for a second. Any normal person would've thought if they were really the strongest… He grabbed the sword with all his might and pulled it. His hand started to burn like fire. He pulled again. His hand again burned. He pulled his hand away from the sword. "AGHHH!" He screamed at the sword, in anger, and thrust his hand unto the sword once more. It burned yet and again. He placed both his hands on it and pulled like no other person could. The fiery pain was unbearable, but Sarevok refused to let go. And then, for the third time in his life, the burning evil that shot through his veins was again released all into his arms. All along both arms he felt his anger, hatred and evil surge through his veins, his arms felt like they were expanding, and the pain dissipated. His veins started to increase in size and his blood felt like glass ripping through his arms. His hand were smoking with the burn, yet there was no pain. Keins stood in amazement of Sarevok's determination. Then, with one last incredible tug, the sword flew out of the stone, out of Sarevok's grip, somersaulted through the air and plunged itself into the soil.

Keins stared at the sword in amazement. It was incredibly smooth. It had a tint of red around the hilt and blade, and it had extra sharpened edges on it. It was a thick, and malicious looking blade. Also to his amazement, the roots moved away from the sword as if a great evil was forcing them away. Sarevok turned around and strode towards his prize. He smiled, and placed his hand on the hilt. "Lets go back…" He said, his voice in a sudden deep, evil tone. "O… Of course!" Keins replied. Sarevok's voice was very commanding now, and he didn't want to get hurt. What he had just done had convinced Keins that Sarevok was not… usual, so to speak. "Let us go… follow me…" He said, and headed to the wall of roots again…


End file.
